


Shielding

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gladio trains his charge.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Shielding

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It would be so easy to swing his broadsword around and slice Noctis clean in two, but instead Gladiolus leans back and thrusts his foot forward, catching Noctis right in the stomach. Noctis goes reeling to the polished floor of the training room, already gasping for breath. His sword disappears from his hand, his arm wrapping around his middle, curling protectively against himself as he rolls over on his side and chokes. Gladiolus’ wings flex out. He _almost_ feels bad, except he’s too busy feeling supremely annoyed. He slams the tip of his weapon down next to Noctis and bellows, “Get up!”

Noctis shoves the sword away. He glares up at Gladiolus and the enormous shadow Gladiolus’ black wings cast over him. He hisses, “Why are you even doing this?”

“What, training you? Because it’s my damn job. Now get up!”

Noctis does push up until he’s sitting, but he doesn’t rise to his feet. He already has a few forming bruises that a potion will fix, but it’s nothing compared to what he’d get out in the _real world_ if an Imperial soldier ever got their hands on him. He splutters anyway, “What’s the point? You’re my guardian angel—you’re supposed to swoop in and save me when I need it!”

“You can’t rely on that!” Gladiolus’ voice comes out so loud that it booms through the enormous hall, echoing off every surface. Noctis is still breathing hard, but some of his fire dissipates under Gladiolus’ sheer force of will. He suddenly looks so _tiny_ , huddled up on the floor, like he was back when he was a child and Gladiolus first showed himself to the young prince. Gladiolus tries to lower his voice but doesn’t succeed. “There’s a _war_ out there, Noct. Billions of soldiers, daemons, monsters, MTs—every horror you can imagine, bent on killing you, and you want me to bail you out every time like some poor damsel in distress? You think these wings make me invincible? You think it’ll always be easy to fly to your side? What if I break one? What if I’m _killed_?”

Something flickers through Noctis’ eyes—a rare, vulnerable stab of _fear_. He’s probably never thought of the possibility of losing Gladiolus before, because he’s always worrying about losing his dad. It forces Gladiolus to soften, because he hates seeing his prince cower. 

He’s only growling out of love. He wants, more than anything, for Noctis to always be _safe_ , and he’d hate if his friendship was the thing to do Noctis in—if Noctis let his guard down because of Gladiolus. He knows he’s being too tough. But he always tells himself it’s necessary.

He tries, marginally quieter, “Look. I _will_ protect you, Noct. With my very life, if necessary. But you need to be able to protect yourself first.”

Noctis looks more battered than he did before. He doesn’t summon his weapon back. But he does push slowly up to his feet, and then he staggers forward. 

He envelops Gladiolus in a tight, crushing hug. It melts Gladiolus instantly. His wings cocoon around them. For once, he breathes out, “Sorry.”

“I’ll get stronger,” Noctis mutters against his chest, half bitter and half willful. “You don’t need to die for me.”

Gladiolus hopes he doesn’t have to. 

But no matter what happens, he’s going to make sure Noctis lives a good, long life, so someday he can see his own child inherit their royal guardian angel too.


End file.
